Halls Of The Blood King Novels & Stories

she didn't know why she called him when she can call for Esee or Csal who were both no where since the celebration began. She didn't know if it was her senses failing when the burden of weight on her back seemed to become lighter. But when she looked up, lights embraced everywhere while the beast was thrown up in a distance that it slid in the large hallway. In almost weak state she saw how the king had effortlessly tear a reptilian creature in half while his eyes in pitch black. Green bloods from the creature dripped from the severed flesh on the king's hands while he let go of those in the floor, slowly sauntering towards her direction in blank face. As if he intended to kill her too.

Because if I do, I might not stay calm. And I need to stay just calm enough. For now. At the far end of the hall a door. It leads to a large room, vampires everywhere. At the end of the room, A throne. Black. Carved like it grew out of the stone itself. And sitting on it.. Him. The Vampire King. Still. Composed. Watching us like we’re a mildly interesting problem he’s already solved. I slow as we approach. We stop several feet from the throne.

He was dealing with a true-blooded Vampire, the rightful heir of the Vampire kingdom and dark empire. He didn't even have time to scream before I ripped his throat out and sunk my hand into his chest. Black Blood oozed from the gaping hole, his heart still beating as I ripped it from his body. He dropped to the ground, his red eyes wide with shock. I tossed the heart beside him crushing it under my boot. I leaned over him, my face an inch from his. "Long live the king." I spat, ripping his head off his body and making my way to the castle.

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.

He took an involuntary step back, his shoulders slumped, the resentment in his face warring with the sudden, cold realization that he was standing on the losing side of a massacre. I looked at Caius, and for a moment, the King of the Blood-Stained Throne looked back at me. There was no pretense of a Vessel or a Consort. There was just the look of two people who had torn down a wall and found a battlefield on the other side. "Does anyone," I said, my voice steady, cutting through the terrified whispers like a knife, "have anything they’d like to add before we decide what to do with the rest of her?"

My crimson pupils ringed by liquid gold flared with a dangerous, ancient intensity that forced every surviving noble to gasp for air under the sudden, immense weight of my majesty. Beta Vance marched through the ruined double doors, his face blackened by soot, his heavy broadsword sheathed at his hip as he led a contingent of six Bloodmoon executioners dragging the High King’s prime minister by his velvet collar. They threw the man down at the base of the dais, his rich robes tearing against the shattered marble.

Eventually Alex is able to tell me the town, and that it isn't too far from here, before both him and Alex leave me to rest. Not that I can find much...Nightmares haunt me. Nightmares of being kidnapped, meeting an enigmatic hunter with unspoken abilities. A King, a rebellion. These nightmares assault me so viciously, so vividly, I wake in the night in a sweat, gasping in panic. These aren't nightmares, they are memories.

The hall we walk through is wide and tasteful in its design. The tiles gleam underneath my heels and the walls are the color of blood mixed with midnight. I expected that since the exterior of this building had been painted all white, the interior would be something light too but I can see I'm wrong. I know I shouldn't do this but I can't help myself. I steal a glance at the Lycan king and I'm smitten yet again. Lord Lyros, king of the north, looks dashing in his ensemble.